


In Their Natural State

by nanases_h



Series: Need Your Light [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Making Up, Pillow Talk, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Spanking, USUKUS, they fuck three times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanases_h/pseuds/nanases_h
Summary: “You know what? I like you better when you’re across the ocean. Out of sight, out of mind!”They laugh and sing some silly songs. They kiss. They fight. They fuck.No matter how much they fight and claim how much they hate each other, they’d fall into each other’s arms in the end, and that was their natural state.





	In Their Natural State

**Author's Note:**

> This is in the same universe as ‘Need Your Light’, which is my long distance AU, and acts as some sort of a prequel. You can read them separately, but ‘Need Your Light’ tells their backstory better. I guess.  
> 
> 
> (I just needed an excuse to write a hate-sex-borderline-make-up-sex fic tbh. ;A;)  
> 
> 
> Unbeta-ed. Please excuse the errors.

Bright blue eyes studied Arthur from across the dark karaoke room. He pushed the sunglasses against the bridge of his nose to ebb the tide of self-consciousness. Never mind the sun’s absence. Friday nights in the United States were for loose jumpers, tight ripped jeans, thumping beats, and blinding party lights.

“Hey, it’s our favourite!” Alfred bounced from his seat beside Kiku as the screen flashed the title of their karaoke song. Arthur uncrossed his legs, cutting short his catch-up conversation with Francis, when Alfred pulled at his arms.

They stood in the middle of their private room, sharing the microphone in between them. Neither of them could carry a tune, but they knew every word, more like reciting a poem than singing, their deep voice and their laughter echoing from the walls of the sound-proofed room, blending with the ambient noise. Arthur’s eyes flickered from the TV screen to its faint glow against Alfred’s grinning face.

They ended up slow dancing during the long interlude, Arthur’s head on Alfred’s broad shoulder, and Alfred’s hand resting on his waist like it was only the two of them in the room. The lovely night was starting to make his forget about his long and exhausting flight a few hours ago. 

“You look so hot sitting there against the wall, baby,” Alfred whispered, “Makes me wanna fuck you hard.” 

Arthur felt his cheeks and his ears burn as if he chewed red peppers. The devil. “In front of our friends? Can it wait until we get home?”

“No,” said Alfred, and his lips smashed against Arthur’s as soon as the word escaped his mouth. 

Wolf whistles and mock retching sounds reverberated in the room. 

“Get a room, you two!” Gilbert’s rough voice resonated. 

They laughed as they felt pieces of peanuts pelt their skin.

Minutes melted into hour. When Arthur was giggling at jokes he didn’t get, and Alfred started waving to strangers, feeling like he was a celebrity, they decided it was time to say goodbye to their friends and go home. Drunk and swaying, they walked the streets back to Alfred’s apartment. 

Alfred put an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, a habit he developed since they started dating in uni. “I can’t wait to see the show!”

Arthur watched him for a second, and bit his inner cheek. “Did you buy the tickets already?” 

“Yep.”

“Even the flight tickets?” 

“Uh-huh. All set.”

“Darling, I told you to just pencil-book it because I wasn’t sure if I could make it,” said Arthur, “I have a business trip to Singapore at that time.”

Alfred’s flushed face contorted in confusion. He squinted at Arthur like he was all blurry despite their closeness. “I didn’t know that.” 

Arthur tightened his grip around Alfred’s wrist that rested against his neck. “I told you over the phone two weeks ago, remember?” 

Alfred bit his lip. “Well shit.” 

“Is it refundable?” 

Shaking his head, Alfred asked, “Can you move your trip to a later date?” 

“No,” Arthur said immediately, and without skipping a beat, “Everything’s ready and my boss is expecting I’d win this deal. We’ve been eyeing this business partner for _years_ , and I have to get that deal, so I can’t afford to reschedule this trip. It’ll ruin everything.” 

Alfred whistled and shifted his gaze to the obnoxiously bright street lamp across them. “That’s two thousand dollars about to go down the drain now.” 

This struck a chord inside Arthur. Blame rang in his ears. He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, and unwrapped Alfred’s arm from his shoulders. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not the one who doesn’t pay attention.” 

Alfred shrugged. “I’m not the one who can’t make time for his boyfriend.” 

They were revisiting the ugly and raw part of their relationship, the dodgy streets of a thriving city. Arthur could recall the details very well, the hissing and shouting, spitting toxic words that stabbed deep into their skin. He hated it the most when Alfred opened his stupid, stupid mouth, torn between kissing and hitting him. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you shut your big bloody mouth and listened to me for once!” said Arthur.

Alfred’s eyes widened at the outburst. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His hands balled into fists at his side. “You know what? I like you better when you’re across the ocean. Out of sight, out of mind!”

Without waiting for the wounding response, he stalked off. 

Alfred’s words slapped Arthur out of his drunken haze. Alone under the harsh lamplight, he closed his eyes and counted to ten, his hands trembling like leaves in the wind. He jammed them inside his pockets and waited for his heart to stop beating as quickly as a hummingbird’s before stomping behind Alfred. They approached his apartment in silence, never closer than a hundred metres from each other.

This wasn’t how he expected their reunion to start. They hadn’t seen each other in a month, for Christ’s sake. They should be laughing all the way home, and dancing around Alfred’s living room to some silly pop songs, eyes flickering to the bedroom door. 

Once Alfred unlocked the front door, Arthur marched to get his things. He hadn’t unpacked yet, and all  his possessions were in his compact grey luggage that stood at the foot of Alfred’s bed. His fingers were numb from the cold and the sudden rush of anxiety but he willed them to grab the luggage and drag it along on the way out. As he did, his mind did a quick search of all the places he could go— perhaps he could check in a hotel, or ring their friends ( _hey, Alfred and I had gotten into a fight less than an hour we were alone together. Pathetic, aren’t we? May I stay the night?_ ) or get a cab to the airport, catch the very next flight to London… 

His train of thought was interrupted when Alfred blocked his way out. He stood tall and unyielding at the hallway, taking advantage of his bigger build to emanate intimidation.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his jaw set. 

Instead of answering, Arthur shot him a heart-freezing glare. 

Alfred’s cheeks were red, and in his face was a stern, intense look that sent torrents of fear to other people, but Arthur was unruffled. His expression softened the second he realised the consequences of his words and actions. This was turning out to be another break up, except Arthur might cross the Atlantic and never return this time. That possibility was always, always there.

“Hey. Where are you going?” He asked again, gently this time, tugging at Arthur’s elbows. 

Arthur wrenched himself free from Alfred’s tight grip, feeling the familiar stinging in his eyes and his nose, but kept his composure. 

“Home,” he said, thankful that his voice didn’t sound like cracking ice.

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment until Alfred grabbed his face and their mouths collided, creating an explosion in their core. Alfred kissed him with fierce eagerness, and Arthur mirrored the gesture with the same force, his hands fisting in the front of Alfred’s button down shirt. Angry flames spread from his insides to the tips of his fingers. He wanted Alfred to burn, wanted him to combust at first touch, the flames licking his skin, and growing and devouring him until there was nothing left but embers.

“No, I’m sorry, sir. You can’t leave so soon,” Alfred said when they finally pulled away, gasping for air. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, and Arthur stole it with another kiss. 

Their lips smashed together, both consuming the other into the deepening kiss. They pulled at each other’s hair and inhaled sharply at the searing pain on their scalp. Arthur teased the shell of Alfred’s ear by nibbling it, smelling the faint but familiar scent of pine in his hair, letting it take him back to the woods they used to trek together. 

As his wandering lips found Alfred’s jaw, Arthur started undressing him with efficiency and finesse— without restraint— just like how he did other things. He tossed Alfred’s loosened red tie to the floor and ripped at his starched shirt, not caring about damaging the buttons; Alfred picked him up at the airport straight from work— the prat— and he didn't even bother to change his clothes when they dropped off Arthur’s luggage in the apartment. 

Eyes glazed with lust, Arthur took a moment to study Alfred in his white sleeveless undershirt that exposed his deliciously toned arms, and his coffee brown khaki pants that outlined his long legs. The sight had been a constant secret weakness and had induced quite a number of dirty daydreams. He was suddenly shaken from his musing by the strong fingers knotting at the back of his head. 

Alfred gave his lip another suck and bite while he led Arthur’s hands to his waist, letting him unbuckle his belt and pull both his pants and his boxer briefs down to his knees. In one hasty movement, he kicked them away and took his socks off, flinging them to the floor. Pulling away from the kiss, Alfred lifted Arthur’s jumper over his head. His mouth watered at the sight of the bare pale skin that he so loved. 

His hands roved across the skin of Arthur’s chest, delighting at its sensitivity. He pinched at the nipples, and was rewarded by a low groan, before digging his nails and scratching at Arthur’s arms and back. 

Through parting and licking and biting lips, Arthur asserted his dominance. He licked at Alfred’s teeth and tongue with hungry passion, fists tightly closing around Alfred’s hair. He kissed him until those swollen lips tasted of hard liquor and iron. 

“You think you can get away with hurting my feelings?” Arthur asked, rubbing his hip against Alfred’s bare thigh. His nimble fingers slithered down Alfred’s trimmed waist that had very subtle reminders from his plump, prepubescent days. They stopped at the lowest point of his abdomen, teasing, not yet touching the area where Alfred would love him to pay attention. 

The shards of Alfred’s words still cut through his chest, and he’d wanted to seek retribution by hurting him in the most intimate way he knew. Arthur imagined Alfred naked underneath him, moaning and writhing in pain, begging for more, while Arthur’s teeth grazed against his skin. Gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes through the golden mess of his hair, chest sprayed with cum.  

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll scream in pain, and you’ll deserve it,” Arthur whispered and then continued exploring Alfred’s mouth with his tongue. He felt Alfred’s erection twitch underneath him. 

“Mm,” was Alfred’s coherent reply, too preoccupied by suckling on the skin of Arthur’s collarbone. 

Arthur curled his fingers around Alfred’s neck, choking him, and slammed him against the wall. A strangled cry left his lips, and his arms flailed to keep his balance. A loud crash resounded as he toppled over their framed photos from the top of the bookcase beside them. Arthur fastened Alfred in place by pinning his arms above his head, careful not to step on the broken glass. He traced Alfred’s earlobe with his tongue and nipped it. 

With his mouth next to Alfred’s ear, he commanded with a low and firm voice, “Face the wall.”

Alfred did as he was told, his face turning pink from the excitement that Arthur’s command injected in his veins. 

Arthur’s eyes lingered on Alfred’s well-sculpted back. He slowly ran his hands from his shoulder blades, down the length of his spine, and to his perfectly round backside, relishing the warmth and the smoothness of Alfred’s tanned skin. He recalled how many times Alfred bended over for him and got a lovely view of his arse. Alfred gasped in surprise as Arthur gave it a slap. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed again, tensing, when Arthur began to slap Alfred’s butt repeatedly, spanking it heavily as if his hand was suddenly made of lead. 

Arthur smirked at the redness of the battered skin. Butt slapping was a trick he adapted when he found out how much Alfred loved the humiliation, the kinky twat.  

He pulled at Alfred’s hair again, tipping his head back. He said, “Touch yourself.”

Alfred hesitated for a moment, blushing harder. Arthur kept his eyes on him as his fingers curled around his own cock, pumping it to arousal, and listened to his soft moans. 

“Don’t stop,” Arthur instructed before disappearing to the bedroom to get the lube. 

When he came back, Alfred was evidently enjoying himself, one hand pressed against the wall, and his other hand tight around his dick. His eyes were shut, breathing erratic, and his teeth biting at his lower lip. His eyeglasses hung loose from his nose; Arthur plucked it and placed it on the coffee table. 

“A-Arthur…” He moaned when Arthur removed his hand from his swelling cock and placed his own. “Fuck!”

In between stroking and kissing and nibbling, Arthur forced Alfred’s legs wide and rubbed his erection into the cleft of his arse, teasing Alfred even more, and reminding himself how good it felt inside Alfred. 

Whimpering at the anticipated friction, Alfred took Arthur’s slim fingers from his shoulder and slid them inside his mouth. He pressed harder against Arthur, who, at some point, withdrew the fingers from Alfred’s mouth and shoved them inside his entrance, rough and quick. 

Alfred stiffened and yelped at the sudden intrusion, but grew to like the sensation. He squirmed against Arthur, thrusting to meet his fingers. 

“Hah…” He closed his eyes as the third finger was added, his breathing became more audible, and his movements faster. 

After a while, Arthur extracted his fingers to be replaced by his cock, shoving hard and quick. Alfred let out a tortured cry and tipped his head back, tensing in shock. Pain ignited from his bottom up to his spine, leaving the rest of his body without sensation for a moment. Once he recovered, he pressed his back against Arthur’s chest and rolled his hips to meet Arthur’s movements. 

This was all too familiar. Arthur closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the time when it all began. During their university days, Alfred was a struggling bartender and Arthur was the loner, alcoholic train wreck he annoyed every time he dropped by for a few drinks. Confrontation ensued one night when Arthur had a little too many drinks. _I can’t fucking stand you! Neither can I!_ Perhaps alcohol muddled his brain at that time, making him think if he slept with him, he could move on; he could finally get rid of those annoying remarks, his grating voice, his obnoxious laughter, and the stupid, beautiful smile that always graced his face. _Shut up, Jones!_ He spat, and they kissed and shagged senselessly for the rest of the night. And the countless nights that followed. 

One arm around Alfred’s torso, and a hand clawing at his hip, Arthur planted kisses on Alfred’s nape, pushing and pulling with all his strength, the shards in his chest still stinging, and wanting Alfred to feel the same. 

“Shit!” Alfred exclaimed, making more incoherent noises as his hips kept up with Arthur’s furious pace. He’d always been loud with Arthur. 

His legs trembled even more as he rested his head back on Arthur’s shoulder. Choked sobs of satisfaction left his mouth when Arthur bent him forward a little and found his sweet spot. 

“Jesus Christ!” He let out a sharp cry while Arthur pounded harder and harder. 

Arthur moved with a little more aggression, slamming Alfred’s head against the wall multiple times. His nose wrinkling, and sweat dripping from his face, he humped Alfred with such ferocity until his lungs were on fire. 

“Arthur! Ah-Arthur!” Against him, Alfred couldn’t see from all of the sensations assaulting his body. He cried and cried, his mouth open wide. His entrance stung from Arthur’s girth, his insides burning with utter pleasure, and it was only a matter of time before he could short circuit. 

Both were breathing hard and fast as they felt their bodies approach orgasm. Arthur sank his teeth on the crook of Alfred’s neck, making his body quake violently. They twitched and moaned each other’s name by the time they climaxed. Arthur wrapped his hand around Alfred’s cock to help him finish, stroking and pumping and squeezing until white fluid squirted into the wall. 

Feeling himself going limp inside Alfred, Arthur rested his cheek against Alfred’s sweat-slicked back, worried that his legs would give in any second. He stared at the once-immaculate wall in front of him through half-shut eyes that followed the white ribbons of cum. 

The only sound they heard were their heavy breathing. The silence stretched longer, each of them waiting for the other to say something while succumbing to the shame that was igniting inside them. When no words came out, Alfred took Arthur’s hand and lead him to the couch to rest their bones. 

“Come here,” he said, and Arthur felt strong arms surround him and pull him down so they were lying on the cushion. 

Arthur twisted to watch Alfred’s face. With Alfred on top, he could see his face more clearly, its redness, the tiny beads of sweat forming on his nose, the loose strands of hair hanging over his blue eyes, and that one wayward strand sticking up as usual. His lover surrounded him with his larger, bulkier frame, straddling him, and pinning Arthur’s figure in between his thighs. 

Alfred tugged at his ripped jeans and his underpants, completely freeing Arthur from his clothing. Big and calloused hands roam across his naked skin, taking possession of him. Then, Alfred kissed every part of his body, claiming everything where his lips landed, enough to arouse him again. But not enough to pluck the shards from his chest. 

Arthur clung to Alfred and pulled him down to kiss his mouth. He made him turn away so Alfred’s back was against his chest and covered it with kisses while his hand fondled Alfred’s cock to stimulate him once more. His other hand started groping his backside, and as he climbed lower, Arthur bit it a couple of times, his teeth sinking into the soft, round flesh. 

Hearing Alfred whine in protest or pleasure, Arthur pressed Alfred onto his back, his fingers curling around Alfred’s thighs, spreading him and giving himself a complete view of the large cock standing at full attention, waiting for him. 

Arthur ran his fingers across his smooth skin, reacquainting his senses to the feel of Alfred after a month without him. Having Alfred’s body fully exposed underneath him aroused him even more. Seeing his oblique muscles clench made the blood rush to his face and down to his cock. He was _Arthur Kirkland_ , and he always got what he wanted. 

Listening to his thoughts, he mounted Alfred and stroke their cocks together. He could take it from the top this time— it had been ages since the last time. As he felt the tingling in his entrance, he guided Alfred’s cock towards it to test if he could fit Alfred with little preparation. 

Despite sinking slowly, the soreness made him scream like he was being torn in two. 

“Arthur—” Alfred raised his head to seek Arthur’s face, his voice laced with concern. 

“You’re… f-fucking big…” Arthur sputtered. 

For the record, Alfred was extremely proud of his manhood. He would brag and make innuendos about its size to lure Arthur to bed under other circumstances. But in that moment, he kissed and touched Arthur to distract him and make him feel good, telling him to take it slow. He pumped Arthur’s cock and readjusted himself so Arthur was sitting on his face while he stretched him with his fingers. Alfred began sucking on his cock gently, swirling his tongue around the head, and teasing the slit. 

“Mmm,” said Arthur, rocking his hips to dig further into Alfred’s mouth, murmuring dirty, encouraging words, and tugging harshly into Alfred’s hair.  

Alfred pulled out, briefly gasping for air, to press his lips on the underside, peppering the sac with kisses. He inserted two fingers inside Arthur’s entrance, feeling Arthur swallow him with wet noises that made his cock grow harder. 

As Arthur listened to the obscene sounds their flesh were making while rubbing against each other, Alfred sank his teeth on the part where his hip met his thigh. 

“You bastard,” he exhaled, grasping at Alfred’s hair and realigning himself to shove his cock again inside Alfred’s mouth, thrilled at the sound of his choking and moaning, the vibrations sending sparks to his bones. 

Arthur felt ready when Alfred’s fingers found his prostate and mercilessly struck it. He drew them out to delay his orgasm. 

“Alfred… A-Alfred, I want you now,” he said, withdrawing from Alfred’s mouth to straddle him again. 

After slathering Alfred’s cock with lube, Arthur lifted his hips to sink down on it, inhaling sharply and gasping with every inch that entered him. 

“Arthur, are you alright?” Alfred gripped at his hips. 

“Don’t! Don’t pull out.” 

Alfred let Arthur keep his pace. His hands spread Arthur’s backside wider, definitely leaving finger-shaped bruises tomorrow. It hurt, burned, and stung, but Arthur enjoyed every second of it. Being stretched to his limit was one of his favourite parts being with Alfred. 

His lover kissed him as Arthur took breaks to adjust to the intrusion. Once he was filled with Alfred, he took deep breaths before lifting himself and pushing down on Alfred. He wanted him so much; the pain didn’t matter. The next moment, he was moaning into Alfred’s mouth. 

“Keep… going…” He ordered when he felt Alfred pause. “Don’t you _dare_ stop.”

To distract him from the discomfort, Alfred whispered dirty promises to his ear. Soon enough, Arthur’s face crumpled as he sped up, riding out the pain with his mouth hanging open, his fingernails digging crescents into Alfred’s shoulders. 

“Arthur… _Arthur!_ ” 

Arthur could never tire of Alfred crying out his name during sex— it was so gentle and lovely and delightful. It echoed inside him, sending chills down his spine. Knowing Alfred screaming Arthur’s name out of need, desperation, and pure lust was disarming, and it tore down all his defences, leaving him open and vulnerable. 

The pain gradually turned into a storm of pleasure when Alfred found the spot that made him scream and curse with all of his breath. He wheezed and pleaded and pleaded for more. As if things could get better, Alfred returned the favour of choking Arthur, closing his fingers firmly around his neck. He felt ready to burst from all the attention Alfred bestowed upon his body. 

“Alfred Fucking Jones!” Arthur cursed under his breath when Alfred had let go of his neck. Cum squirted from Arthur’s cock, each shot landing on Alfred’s chest and face. He rode him with more intensity, pounding Alfred against the cushion until his face scrunched and he howled like a wild animal, his cum filling Arthur’s hole to the brim.

Silence exploded upon completing their climax. Spent, they gazed at each other, eyes interlocked as Arthur swayed above Alfred, still recovering from the outpour of energy from his body. He pulled Alfred’s limp cock from him to lay beside his lover, licking and wiping the cum from Alfred’s chest, his fingers traveling to his lips, prying them open. 

Alfred sucked on his fingers without breaking their eye contact, face glowing with self-satisfaction. Arthur wiped the small smile from his lips with a kiss, and they made out playfully on that small couch until they rolled to the floor, their bodies thumping against the wooden floor, laughing. 

An ache settled in Arthur’s heart when Alfred collected him in his arms. He savoured the feeling of Alfred underneath him, the ridges and the planes of his body, and his warmth that kept Arthur safe from the cold, wishing they could live in between the sheets for the rest of their lives. 

Laughter erupted as Alfred’s fingertips found their way to Arthur’s sides, tickling him. Of course, Arthur wouldn’t let the chance pass to get back to him, and so he brushed his fingertips against Alfred’s most ticklish parts, Alfred giggling and kicking the coffee table in the process. Arthur stood up to drag it away before Alfred could kick it again and fall over them.

They touched and talked dirty until they were hard again. Arthur kissed Alfred everywhere his lips could cover except that part between his legs, leaving Alfred moaning in frustration. 

“Remember when we thought we wouldn’t last?” Alfred asked, tracing the shape of Arthur’s face and committing it to memory. 

“ _We’re a disaster together,_ I said,” recalled Arthur. Considering their explosive chemistry, they assumed they wouldn’t last a week, but Alfred, being the carefree, optimistic soul that he was, asked Arthur to give it a chance. 

“Yeah, and I think I said something like, _No doubt, but it would be really nice if you stay with me tonight_. And you did.”

“I did.” 

“And also the night after that, and the night after that, and the night after that…” 

“Mhm, and here we are.” 

“Here we are.”

Still beneath Arthur, Alfred spread his legs as far as he could. The view was so frustrating, so beautiful, and when he looked into those blue eyes, he saw Alfred was starving too. 

“I want you again,” said Alfred.  

“Tell me how you want me,” replied Arthur. 

“I want you rough,” said Alfred, “I want you rough and sloppy and deep inside me until I can’t speak and breathe.” 

As he spoke, Arthur hovered over him, twisting Alfred’s sensitive nipples in between his teeth, and sucked at them. He moved his mouth from one nipple to another in an agonisingly slow pace, subjecting Alfred into a blissful torture. 

“Ah! Arthur, Arthur, please!” Alfred begged, opening his legs wider, “Please, it hurts! I need you to touch me!” 

Arthur gave in with a smirk and wrapped his hand around Alfred’s rigid cock. He stroke it leisurely, absorbing its warmth and stickiness in his palm, while pecking at Alfred’s jawline. 

Mewling and sighing, Alfred eagerly thrusted to the feel of Arthur’s hand. “Fuck me,” he said, biting the soft part of Arthur’s ear, “Fuck me, baby.” 

From Alfred’s neck, Arthur’s lips made their descent to the tip of his cock. He hoisted Alfred’s ankles on his shoulders to open him even more and let Alfred tug at his dick and guide him inside his entrance. 

Alfred bit at the skin of Arthur’s chest to suppress the discomfort of his lover’s intrusion. He revelled in the sensation of nimble fingers closing around his erection, fondling it to enlargement. He shut his eyes, focusing on the awareness of Arthur digging himself deep into him, banging him hard against the floor with each thrust. His skin heated up with friction against the floor. 

When they rolled their hips together, he couldn’t tame the profanities that escaped his mouth. His nails dragged across Arthur’s skin, branding it with long, red, angry marks that would be evident in the morning. 

A deep, delirious haze overcame Alfred as soon as Arthur thrusted against his prostate, stealing all his coherent thoughts. Arthur concentrated on the tightness and the heat around his cock; he’d want to stay inside Alfred forever. He captured the feeling and the moment in his head, tucking them somewhere safe so he’d have something to return to when they’d be separated by the ocean once again. 

They had come a long way from hate sex through out these years. From sloppy quickies in uni, they arrived to the long, sleepless nights in each other’s bed. From easing their sexual frustration and their body’s needs to expressing their real feelings towards each other. From plain fucking to making love. 

Near finishing, Arthur opened his eyes and found Alfred’s face a blur underneath him. 

“Alfred, Alfred, Alfred…” He panted against his ear, sweat dripping from his chin. 

Alfred’s approaching climax manifested in the trembling of his legs around Arthur’s shoulders and his firm manhood pressing against his flexing stomach. Arthur teased his weeping cock, thumbing at the foreskin and cupping the balls at the same time, sending Alfred into a frenzy. 

A loud gasp bounced off the walls of the room at his first release. Arthur ran his hands along the length of his thighs and kissed his knee, encouraging him to come for him. “Go on, darling,” he said, “Come for me.” 

And with that, Alfred clenched around Arthur’s cock, the impossible tightness that was none other than Alfred’s making Arthur scream and climax. He hissed and pressed his knees against the hardwood floor, ramming inside Alfred until his strength dissipated.

In the following moments of silence, the fire in Arthur’s core was finally extinguished, taking the shards of Alfred’s words off his chest. Great waves of bliss washed over them, reaching every corner of their body. They lay on the floor dazed, speechless, and blinking at the ceiling, side by side, with only their hands touching. After a moment, Alfred led Arthur to bed, mumbling something about back pain in the morning, willing their tired bones to get up. They cleaned themselves and remained naked, skin to skin under the sheets. 

Arthur’s heart drummed inside his chest as he folded in to Alfred, watching Alfred folding in to him in return, assuming their natural state. Spending the past years together, they became each other’s support system and grew to accept their best version and flaws. Alfred never complained when he woke up in the middle of the night and turned on the light, and would help him calm down and fall back to sleep. Arthur never held Alfred’s constant need for reassurance against him, and would hold him tight for as long as he wanted. Those little things, they realised, could go a long way, and not even distance could keep them apart. They would always find their way home— in each other’s arms. 

Arthur pillowed his head on Alfred’s arm. Their faces were so close to each other that they were sharing breaths. Alfred surrounded him with pillows because Arthur slept better that way. Lazily caressing the small of Alfred’s back, he listened to his lover’s heart beat. His eyelids fluttered in the companionable silence as he felt Alfred’s weight and warmth beside him. The gentle lull of his breath helped the heavy weight of sleep settle into his bones.

The golden sunrise would colour the walls in a few minutes. Arthur opened his eyes once more and regarded Alfred’s serene face. He remembered all the times when he and Alfred went out at night. He’d insist to take the long way home to wait for the dawn, telling Alfred it was because he didn’t want to be alone. It was true, but secretly, he loved seeing the sunlight kiss those blue eyes, rendering him breathless every time.

Alfred watched him in return. He played with the strands of Arthur’s hair, still damp with sweat against his forehead. After a moment, he found his voice. “I didn’t mean it.”

Arthur raised a thick eyebrow. “Didn’t mean what?” 

“All about liking you better when you’re across the ocean,” he said, nosing Arthur’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean it, baby.” 

“You better not.” 

Alfred peppered his face with apologetic kisses, from the corner of his mouth, to his cheeks, to the tip of his nose. When he pulled back, Arthur noticed his eyelashes were wet. His thumbs lingered on the sides of Alfred’s face and wiped the dampness from his eyes. 

“Idiot.” A peck on the lips. 

Alfred curled into him and squeezed him tight as though Arthur was dissolving into thin air and he wanted to hug all of him and keep him together. “I just missed you so much.” 

“Hmm. I missed you too. Lots. It drives me mental sometimes,” he said, not saying anything else as he drew random shapes on the back of Alfred’s hand. He pressed his lips on his knuckles. “I’ll find more time for you, darling.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

Alfred smiled the kind that reached his eyes and made those bright blue sparkle like the sea’s surface under rays of light. He took comfort on Arthur’s words because he never backed down on his promises. As if a happier thought crossed his mind, his grin stretched wider. 

“Why are you smiling so much, Mr. Sunshine?” Arthur asked with a sceptical look on his face, “Care to share your secret?” 

“It’s nothing, I—“ Alfred sighed delightedly and hid his blushing face behind his arm. “For what it’s worth, this was one of the best sex I’ve had my entire life.”

He dove to meet Arthur’s lips and give him a proper kiss, have a proper taste of him. Eyes shut, he took his time claiming the familiar feel of Arthur’s tongue against his, tasting his favourite flavour that was Arthur’s mouth. He pulled away with a sigh of relief, and smiled.  

“You pervert,” said Arthur, the last syllable coming out with a chuckle, playfully pushing Alfred away with a hand against his chest. 

His gaze flickered to Alfred’s face, catching a sight of bliss and comfort in his eyes right before closing them. Alfred adjusted himself so his body perfectly aligned with Arthur’s, their legs tangled together. 

“I suppose we’ll end up having mind-blowing sex every time we fight?” asked Arthur.

“Maybe,” said Alfred, shooting him a naughty look, but his expression softened immediately. “But I hate fighting like this, baby.”

Arthur hummed in agreement. The soreness was coiling in his muscles, and he could already feel the spots where there would be bruises and scratches and hickeys. The long hours of his day were sinking into his bones like soft fabric in the ocean. He asked in a sleepy voice, “Let’s fuck more tomorrow?” 

Alfred opened his eyes. “All day and all night, if you want,” he said, rubbing circles on Arthur’s back, “I’ll never take my hands off you.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this story is taken from ‘Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby’ by Cigarettes After Sex, which, I imagine, is the ambient song during their slow dance.  
> 
> 
> It’s my first time to write hate sex (that eventually led to make up sex). I hope it turned out okay. Leave a comment and tell me there are remaining lifeforms in this fandom. **Give me love.**  
> 
> 
> In the meantime, I’ll succumb to Riverdale fanfics and rewatch Jughead’s arc bc who doesn’t love this big ball of angst? Bye!


End file.
